


Last Call

by misha_anon



Series: Cheesy Tropes Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bartender Castiel, First Meetings, M/M, Public Sex, Rutting, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's had his eye on the hot bartender whose name tag says "Castiel" for a week; tonight's the night he makes his move.  <i>Little does he know Castiel has the same idea.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Call

Dean is, above all, a creature of habit; that's why he picks a bar when he gets to town and goes back every night unless he's _encouraged_ not to.  Life's unpredictable enough without having to wonder where his next beer's gonna come from.  It also doesn't hurt that two beers in, he's basically irresistible, and the more familiar his face is the more likely he is to find company with minimal effort.  Usually after seven nights in the same bar, he's got all the company he can handle.  This week, though, he's playing a long game in a little dive just east of the Mississippi.

The object of Dean's affection is a tall, muscular guy with blue eyes and a great smile whose name tag reads "Castiel".  Dean has been watching him work all week, admiring his skillful hands and innate ability to tell _just_ when Dean is about to ask for another drink.  He's johnny-on-the-spot with a quick smile and a fresh beer and even though he never says much, there's not a doubt in Dean's mind that he's interested.  Nobody has ever watched Dean so intently if they weren't.

The evening crowd is filtering out when Dean walks in, leaving most of the barstools empty and the few remaining drunks focused on the baseball game flickering across the big screen on the wall.  Dean takes a seat at the far end of the bar away from them, his heart beating a little faster than is strictly necessary.  Thirty seconds later, there's a beer on the bar in front of Dean and Castiel is wiping his hands on a thick towel, a familiar smile on his face.

"I thought maybe you weren't coming tonight," Castiel says off-handedly, turning his head to squint at the baseball game as soon as he finishes speaking.

"Yeah?"  Dean takes a swig from the ice-cold brown bottle to steady his nerves; it almost works until Castiel turns that earnest blue gaze back on him.  Suddenly, his throat feels like he just swallowed a bale of cotton.  He gives his cockiest smile and asks, "Would it really have been such a shame?"

Castiel's eyes widen a little at the question, but he quickly looks down to wipe his hands on the towel again.  Dean feels a little thrill run through him as he takes another drink and watches faint pink bloom across the bartender's nose and cheeks.  His stomach twists warm and pleased when Castiel clears his throat and looks back up with a sincere, "Yes."  

Before Dean has a chance to say anything, Castiel flits off down the bar to pour drinks for the men watching the game.  By the time he makes it back, Dean has finished his beer and come up with a plan.

"So," he says nonchalantly as Castiel sets another beer in front of him, "do you ever get a night off?"

"Never," Castiel answers, his eyes glinting with the smile he's hiding.  "But, tonight _is_ an early night for me.  My replacement will be here any time."

***

Half an hour later, they walk out of the bar together.  Dean's haphazard plan was to go back to the motel and hope Sam was elsewhere, but he and Castiel only make it as far as the nearest alley.  He can feel Castiel's heart thumping against his chest - or maybe it's his own - as he pushes his dark-haired catch against the wall.  His first kiss is tentative, almost sweet, a brush of lips against Castiel's that draws a gasp and a pleased hum.  Then, Castiel's hands are on his hips, pulling him closer and all bets are off.

They trade kisses, hard and heady; all bitten lips and gasped breaths as Dean rocks his hips against Castiel's.  Cas gets his thigh between Dean's and pushes up even as he grabs the front of Dean's jacket and yanks.  Their lips crash together too hard, pulling a moan from them both.  Dean's hands frame Castiel's face, tilting his head to push the kiss deeper, memorizing every curve and plane of the perfect line of his teeth and his quick tongue.  When Dean finally has to pull away and draw a ragged breath, Castiel tilts his head back, sucking breath through his teeth and letting it out in a groan that is the hottest thing Dean's ever heard.

His lips find Castiel's throat, sucking and kissing as Cas squirms and tugs at his jacket.  Dean's so hard he can barely think past the throb of his dick and the slick precome wetting his boxers, the need for release curling dirty and hot in the pit of his stomach.  With the way Castiel's groans are sliding off to whimpers accompanied by imprecise kisses that land wherever they land, Dean is sorely tempted pull him a little deeper into the alley and get down to business.

"I want you, Cas," he murmurs, diving headlong into another deep, tonguefucking kiss.  His cock jerks as Castiel's shaking fingers slip under his waistband, slick precome leaking against rough fabric.  Half a moment later the decision is out of his hands and Dean feels the silky press of Castiel's cock alongside his own; Castiel's fingers wrapped around them both with jerky strokes.  Dean groans and fucks into Castiel's fist, his kisses trailing over Cas' chin and back to his throat.  Pressed together in a dark alley, rutting into Castiel's stroking hand, Dean's head spins with excitement.

Castiel's free hand presses against Dean's jaw, pulling his head up for a kiss; Dean braces one hand against the brick wall behind Castiel and uses the other to squeeze the heads of their cocks together.  Their lips meet in huffed breaths, growled filth, heated kisses.  It doesn't take much more of Castiel's erratic stroking and Dean's tight-squeezing fist before the dirty heat in the pit of his stomach boils over, come pulsing over his fingers and slicking both their cocks.  

Castiel chokes out a moan, hips bucking as he braces his shoulders against the wall and fucks into their fists, falling over the edge right behind Dean.  He comes hard, body jerking as his knees shake so hard Dean can feel it.  He surges forward, using his body to shore up Castiel's as they fall into another kiss.  It's slow and sweet, each man pulling his hand away and tucking his softened cock away.  Hands on hips, lips supple, relaxing until their bodies are pressed tight together from knee to shoulder, boneless and enjoying lazy kisses.

When Dean's head clears, he pulls away with a pleased sigh, letting his eyes flutter open until he's looking into a wide, blue gaze and flushed face.  Castiel smiles and blinks slowly, then presses a lingering kiss to Dean's lips before he whispers, "I don't think I ever caught your name."


End file.
